


Lord's Kiss

by crookedneighbour



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gross Book Ramsay, Implied/Referenced Incest, Incest, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Dynamics, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 19:11:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12327090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedneighbour/pseuds/crookedneighbour
Summary: Roose has Ramsay show him how he'll treat Arya on her wedding night.





	Lord's Kiss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tendervittles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tendervittles/gifts).



> Roose is 100% Gucky Level Power Moves Every Gosh Darned Day. This fic is me calling out my husband's fetishes.

“What did you just, bid me, father?”

Ramsay was irate already. His temper so quickly got the better of him.

“Bring your creature. I want to be sure you can perform for your wedding,” Roose repeated. “I know reading and writing has proved troublesome for you, but if your hearing his gone as well...

“I heard you fine.”

Ramsay had been gallivanting about Winterfell, in his usual dramatic way. He was dressed far too fine for the day and had taken to berating the workers out of boredom. He could have simply bid Ramsay to stop, but it was better to supply him with a new dalliance.

Whatever remained of Theon Greyjoy had been trailing sadly after him. The whole scene was rather embarrassing; a badly dressed and self-inflated boy, with a simpering prisoner at his feet. Men would fear him, surely, but respect him, never.

Roose chose what had been Jon Snow’s quarters. The Freys would have to abide it. The message would not be lost on Ramsay, who would see it as a chance to prove what he supposedly wasn’t, death bound and baseborn.

Theon looked to Ramsay expectantly. The two Walders hadn’t done much decorating aside from burning the Stark banner.

“Reek, do you think Theon Turncloak was ever soiled in this room?” Ramsay mused, examining the furs of the bed. He began to nonchalantly undress, as Theon looked aside. “Personally, I think Jon Snow was probably too soft-dicked to even consider such a thing.”

Ramsay’s blotchy complexion continued across the rest of his body, his back littered with small pink pimples. His work at the mill had made him bulky and strong, especially in his shoulders and arms.

“Talk to him as if he were your wife. I know it’s what you’d have if you could,” Roose ordered. Ramsay scowled.

“I wouldn’t marry a dog. It’s more likely Reek wants to marry me,” he insisted. “You would marry me if I asked wouldn’t you, Reek?”

“Of course, my lord,” Theon replied automatically. He looked to Roose in a panic. “I mean m’lord. And only if your father allowed it. I’m hardly a good enough match for you.”

Roose hummed and gave Greyjoy a brief smile for his performance. He answered well to Roose’s purpose. Ramsay shoved off the rest of his clothes in a huff and stepped towards him.

“You belong to me. Not my father,” Ramsay snarled. Roose moved between the two of them and placed a hand on Theon’s shoulder. Theon flinched at his touch.

“You have him because I allow it. Just as I’m giving you a wife. Now do as I tell you and show me you won’t make a mess of her as you have this gift,” Roose said. “She will carry your heir. Cutting off fingers would be unwise.”

Roose let his face hang close to Ramsay’s, unbothered by the rage in his pale eyes.

“Not until you have three boys at least,” he mused. Ramsay laughed at that. The jest softened Ramsay’s mood, and excited his base nature.

“Come now, Reek. Lay on the bed for my father and I. Try to look a maid, if you can.”

Theon Greyjoy lifted his rags from his rather barren frame. If he treated Arya remotely like he had Theon, there was no point keeping her alive at all. A dead girl the Northerners could swallow, but a girl tortured and raped repeatedly would be worse.

Theon crawled into the bed unceremoniously. His backside was scarred and dirty from countless whippings and nights besides dogs. Ramsay stood naked at the base of the bed and licked his thick lips in anticipation. Despite his braggart nature he was still limp between his legs.

“Ready your bride however you see fit. If you simply ram inside her, she’ll bleed.”

Theon laid his head to the side in resignation as Ramsay climbed between his legs, spreading them.

“You heard my father. You’ll need to be good and wet.”

Roose squinted as he placed a sloppy kiss on Greyjoy’s thigh and lapped his way up towards the curve of Theon’s ass. It was likely not the first time nor the foulest place Ramsay had placed his lips, considering the hunts he and Heke had played at.

Theon gasped as Ramsay spread the cupped halves of his ass and took to licking between his legs. Ramsay’s greasy hair hung down his back, and the musculature of his legs and thighs were highlighted by his knelt position. Greyjoy shook and whined as Ramsay worked, but kept his vocalizations to a minimum. Likely out of fear of Roose, as shameless screaming seemed to be more to Ramsay’s tastes.

Roose approached the bedside slowly. This would of course work on Arya but would not serve sufficiently for the task at hand.

“When a woman’s wet enough you won’t need much else. I won’t have him bleeding on the furs though. Place your cock between the cleft when the urge strikes you,” Roose instructed.

Ramsay nodded with some enthusiasm as he continued to tongue at Theon. Theon had taken to crying, which would likely be accurate for Arya’s bedding. In the meantime Ramsay’s cock had finally stiffened.

“Father won’t let me fuck you yet, Reek, but I’ll make it up to you plenty tonight,” he whispered, pausing to caress the left side of his bottom. He gave Theon another soft kiss there and Greyjoy shuttered.

Ramsay shifted their positions so his hips were placed alongside Greyjoy’s and he supported his own weight on his arms. His ass was shapely enough to show some movement with each thrust. Roose took to watching this to pass the time. Domeric would have likely found the whole thing rather enchanting, but Roose had a wife and a hold to see repaired.

Ramsay rutted happily against his kept creature. The boy was capable of some restraint after all. It was just a matter of framing it in his interests. As he climaxed he let out a series of unflattering throaty grunts. Again something Domeric would likely clamor over. Weakness to their lusts would eventually undo both his sons. He could only hope Ramsay would have a son by then.


End file.
